Australian for… what?

An opportunity for the Aussie beer brand, Foster’s to extend its ad campaign, “Australian for beer” in India. Place Ponting’s pint sized face after the Brisbane defeat in their ad. Add the line: Australian for whiner. Sign off with Foster’s, Australian for beer.

Now, Foster’s could go the whole Hogg, and include the only just retired Chinaman bowler but that would be a tad overdone. But Brad Hogg (Australian for forgotten) if anyone, has reason to feel belittled, being excluded in his last international. Including Symonds and Hayden in any such sneer fest is tempting. But they are only the troops. Ponting is the General.

Yet Symonds & Hayden (Australian for assault) continue to be the focus of India’s scorn. Ponting, as if less evocative visually, and smaller in stature, almost Hitleresque sans moustache, camouflages with the collective Aussie antipathy. (Australian for gamesmanship)

Ponting is by no means the arrowhead. He is the archer. Invisible in his greens, on the greens.

And whether it was Symond’s shenanigans or Hayden’s heresy or Brett’s beamer or Clarke’s cuddle, were they mere shots in the dark? And in the dieing days of the Commonwealth Bank Series, if that wasn’t enough, Gillispeak (Australian for honesty) was anointed too.

Did the wives and girlfriends follow? Along with the cherubic children who made it for their Daddy’s retirement –did they point fingers at Harbhajan Singh too? And a witch-hunt, no less ensued. And the fanatic hordes of Sydney, Brisbane, Melbourne, took to hunt down Bhajji. Welcome to Salem, Australia, 2007-08. The trials never ended, even though the series has.

And bring back Muralitharan. And hang him with your words too.

In the meantime, Australia hangs on to every word. That could have been spoken, must have been spoken, will be spoken. As Ricky Archer will admit, a spoken word, and a sped arrow never come back.

Coming back to beating Australia, it’s so seldom, yet so sweet. But beating Ponting’s team was more about defying a nation’s scorn.

In the latter days of the series, it was almost like taking on a bunch of meandering mercenaries - who sensed they were playing on borrowed time. Thinking when that last bullet ball gets them, will it be a LBW or a run-out?

In the second final, it was as if both Symonds & Hayden were tempting fate – Almost a touch of Yeat’s “An Irish Airman forsees his death” in their dismissals. One over of poetry for the Indians by you-know-who Singh, and the ablest two lieutenants went down, somewhat predictably, run-out and LBW. It was over then. As General Ponting said so himself!

But when exactly did General P think it was over? When his IPL bid was upsettingly low? When India took Perth? Or when he let the Sydney test take him?

Does General P even recall where, why and when this Aussie summer started to go awry? And did he feed the flames and flies of Perth? When he’s alone, at home, flicking the lamp switch, on-off-off-on, will he in between see the light?

That he once was the best batsman in the world. That he captained the best team in the world. That not just Australia, but Indians too, not only feared but respected his craft.

Long before it became craftiness (Australian for mental). Disintegration just backfired with interest, mate.

PS: In spite of being twin bros. both Mark Waugh and Steve Waugh were quite unlike each other; they were Australian for Foster (‘s) brothers!